


You're Beautiful

by mgmudora



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Haikyuu - Freeform, KuroKen - Freeform, Tender - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-28
Updated: 2020-12-28
Packaged: 2021-03-11 03:48:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,111
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28388799
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mgmudora/pseuds/mgmudora
Summary: I'm weak for the "tenderly treating wounds" trope so I wrote this to get a crumb of serotonin
Kudos: 4





	You're Beautiful

“One touch!” Kuroo’s voice echoed in the gym, weaving its way in between the sounds of the team’s squeaking shoes and the heavy breathing as they neared the end of their third and final practice set of the day.

  
Yaku was there behind him, already prepared to send the ball to Kenma.

  
Kuroo and Yamamoto ran for the net, both of them prepared to spike no matter where Kenma sent the ball. But as they both jumped, swung their arm, and landed, neither of them made contact with the ball. The other half of the team on the opposite side of the net let out a series of frustrated groans as the ball hit the ground.

  
Kuroo smirked as his gaze shifted to Kenma.

  
_He pulled out his sneaky setter dump, that damn genius._

  
“Kenma, you’re amazing!” Kuroo praised.

  
Kenma gave him a displeased look. “This isn’t even a real game, calm down.”

  
“That doesn’t change the fact that you’re the best damn setter anyone could ask for,” Kuroo teased, accurately predicting exactly the look Kenma was going to give him in response.

  
Yamamoto butted in before Kenma could explicitly tell Kuroo precisely where he could shove the volleyball that was just handed to him. “Could you two stop flirting in the middle of practice?”

  
Kuroo winked at Kenma, who turned away to hide the redness creeping across his cheeks, as he passed the ball to Inuoka to be served.

  
Moments later, a _slap_ sound ricocheted off the walls as the ball was served over the net, and both sides resumed their concentration.

  
_Receive, set, spike. Receive, set, spike. Receive, set, spike...NOW._

  
Kuroo jumped, reaching to block as Kai made collision with the ball.

  
The sound echoed in Kuroo’s ears and pain shot through his left hand as his last two fingers sprained, but he shook it off as he yelled, “One touch!”

  
Yaku received, Kenma set, Yamamoto spiked--out of bounds.

  
Shaking away the pain in his fingers, Kuroo looked to the scoreboard. His half of the team was leading, 24-23.

  
After this set, practice was over for the day. He and Kenma could go home and relax and-- _no. Keep your damn head in the game, Kuroo. Treat it like it’s a real game, just like coach said._

  
“You okay?” Kenma’s quiet voice sounded next to Kuroo.

  
He forced a smirk onto his face as he turned to his best friend. “Aww, Kenma, are you worried about me? You’re such a good friend!” That was apparently the end of that conversation, because Kenma immediately settled back into his position in the middle of the court. But what Kuroo couldn’t see was how Kenma kept glancing down at his best friend’s injured hand, concern lacing his features.

  
_One more point_. Kuroo thought to himself. _Just one more point._

  
The ball was served again, and the pattern repeated six more times. _Receive, set, spike_.

  
It was almost forever until Kuroo managed to be completely confident about a block.

  
He stomped his foot, launching himself upward and extending his arms. But Kai was the one spiking again--it’d be another hard hit.

  
_Grin and bear it._

  
Time itself slowed to almost a stop as Kuroo watched Kai’s arm extend back and propel itself forward, colliding with the ball. That all-too-familiar slap vibrated in Kuroo’s bones and he tensed up, preparing for impact. This time, it was his right hand that threw the ball off-course, but he barely felt his fingers spraining as his gaze followed the ball--right out of bounds.

  
_Shit._

  
Cheers came from the other side of the court, and Kuroo looked down at his shaking hands. Both pinkies and ring fingers were sprained. He likely couldn’t play for much longer without causing serious damage, so they’d just have to get the last two points and be done quickly. Besides, it was nothing he hadn’t endured before.

  
“You’re hurt.” Kuroo hadn’t realized that Kenma had walked up behind him and peered around his shoulder.

  
He balled his hands into fists, ignoring the pain that pulsed through his hands, and tried his best to smile at Kenma. “I’m fine, let’s just get these last two points and get the hell home.”

  
“You can’t keep playing like that. Come on,” Kenma grabbed his wrist and led him over to the bench at the side of the court.

  
“What’s going on?” Yamamoto asked.

  
Kenma explained to him what had happened, and that he refused to let his best friend continue playing unless his fingers were wrapped with tape. This earned a couple of eye rolls and knowing smiles from the rest of the team.

  
Kuroo plopped onto the bench as Kenma grabbed the tape and began to unwind it.

  
“Gimme your hand.”

  
Kuroo obeyed, and his heart skipped a beat as their skin made contact, Kenma’s fingers surprisingly gentle.

  
He concentrated hard as he ever so slowly wrapped the two injured fingers on Kuroo’s right hand together. Of course, Kuroo didn’t know that he was taking his time on purpose.

  
As Kenma worked, Kuroo’s gaze drifted to his best friend’s eyes, and his breath hitched when he realized exactly how close together they were. Close enough so Kuroo could see each and every gold fleck in Kenma’s brown eyes--how had he never noticed those before? And there was a light blush across his cheeks--Kuroo assumed from the game, but he didn’t know he was wrong. He didn’t know that his best friend was also paying very close attention to how close they were--their faces were practically inches apart.

  
The two boys also didn’t notice how everyone else in the gym had sensed the tension between them and immediately averted their gaze to literally anywhere but the bench where they were sitting.

  
Kenma moved on to Kuroo’s left hand and began speaking. “You shouldn’t push yourself when you’re injured. It’s reckless and stupid. That’s how long-term injuries happen. Do you never wanna play volleyball again? Because if not, then keep being stupid and--” He cut himself off when he realized how much he was talking. His hands froze as he finally met Kuroo’s gaze only to find him-- _smiling?_

  
“What?” Kenma questioned.

  
Kuroo’s mouth moved before he could even think. “You’re beautiful.”

  
Kenma’s eyes widened and he stopped breathing. Heat rushed to his face, and just in case he was blushing, he threw the tape into Kuroo’s lap and turned to walk away. “Finish it yourself.”

  
Behind him, Kuroo simply laughed. And as Kenma resumed his position on the court to wait for his best friend, he bit the inside of his cheek, keeping himself from smiling like an idiot.


End file.
